


Team Building Exercise '99

by regents



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 09:54:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regents/pseuds/regents
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five pairs of eyes looked at him expectantly, all ready to protest regardless of whichever side Ron decided to be on. He glowered at them all indiscriminately and said, "Shut your pie holes and listen to Leslie."</p><p>Three team building days over three different years at the Pawnee Parks and Recreation Department.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Team Building Exercise '99

**Author's Note:**

  * For [missnumbat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/missnumbat/gifts).



> Happy holidays! To my betas, <3.
> 
> Title is a reference from _Business Time_ by Flight of the Conchords.

"So how was your Satur --"

"Why are we here?" 

Jerry seemed to shrink back into his seat as the silence of the conference room, his wince causing an almost an audible echo through the empty Parks Department offices. Ron glared at the room, quietly demanding that anyone in on this joke of a day come out now and face judgement. Summoning his courage, Jerry cleared his throat and said, "We're supposed to be having team building exercises."

Ron sighed, his stony expression ruined somewhat by the fluttering of his moustache. Team building exercises; another excuse by big government to waste time and spend hours of self-indulgent back-patting on taxpayer's dime. Abraham Lincoln would be rolling in his grave. "Did you tell Anita it was this Sunday?"

Their chairs creaked.

"I did," Jerry answered in a small voice. "She laughed and said 'yes, I will definitely be there'."  
There was a short, tremulous flutter of moustache and an inward string of profanities about how the founding fathers didn't have to deal with crackpot psychology involving trust falls and effective communication. Ron had a pro tip for effective communication: talk but do not talk shit. It looked like this weekend was going to be Jerry's crash course and he had better keep up if he wanted his time at the department to be as painless as possible.

Why did anyone think this was a good idea anyway? Anita Redgrave was due to retire next week. Ron had a pretty good idea that the _least_ she wanted to do was build their team. She'd already started on the epic, bridge-burning expedition last week when she literally set fire to a paper bin in the accounting department. (Granted, Ron thought that she had the right idea but the execution left little to be desired.)

" _Dammit_ , Jerry." He heaved himself upright. "I could be finishing off my canoe right now." Or fishing. Or finishing his divorce papers with Tammy Two. Actually, he was leaning more towards fishing at the moment; the prospect of ruminating over his second failed marriage was unpalatable and strangely arousing.

"I'm really sorry, Ron." Jerry looked genuinely distressed and Ron almost felt terrible. "Oh! I know!" Oh, no. A Jerry lightbulb moment. "Why don't you come over to my place for Sunday lunch? Gayle is cooking roast beef."

The prospect of spending at least an hour of awkward small talk at the Gergich household was less than appealing, but Ron could not bring himself to crush the man's feelings. 

"Fine," he said shortly. Jerry had him at 'beef'.

 

It was like stepping into an alternate universe. 

Jerry surrounded by Gayle and their three daughters transformed him into superdad. It was bizarre. Ron spent the first ten minutes leaning subtly backwards as Jerry made pleasant conversation with Millicent about her upcoming calculus exam while the other Miriam and Gladys set the table up. It pained Ron to have to say it… but he was perturbed. _This is the worst._

His colleague jumped off his seat and pottered around the kitchen with his wife before coming out with the roast beef set upon a floral-printed ceramic serving plate. "No no, please have a seat, Gayle, darling," he said and he began to carve the roast.

Gayle sat down and beamed at everyone at the table and Ron instinctively wondered once more how she happened to Jerry. "My husband tells me you're building a canoe, Ron?" she asked as she began doling out roast vegetables.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Is it for everyday use or something special?"

Ron paused halfway through putting a spoonful of potato in his mouth. "I plan on paddling it in the middle of the lake on the 4th of July so I can be as far away from people as possible while still having an unobstructed view of the fireworks."

There was a pause. The children went on serving themselves with food while Jerry heaped a generous serving of roast beef on Ron's plate. Instead of quailing, as Ron had expected, Gayle laughed unreservedly and Jerry joined in. "Well, I think that is a lovely idea!"

He eyed them both, watching for any hint of sarcasm and found none. Taking advantage of the brief reprieve as the couple chatted about the garden, Ron took a bite of roast beef. After a moment, he set down his fork.

"This is not the worst," he said under his breath, his proclamation lost amongst the babble after Miriam dropped the bomb that she was going steady with Brett Macintosh.

*

Ron knew it was a bad idea to make Leslie in charge of the team building exercise this year. She was no longer a new recruit but she was still surpassing Tom with respect to enthusiasm for the job. It was a very off-putting trait; all that bureaucratic productivity. When he arrived at the Parks Department offices that Monday, Ron was immediately greeted by a hyper-caffeinated Leslie and handed an… itinerary.

Jerry, Donna, and Tom sat browsing their own copies and shaking their heads.

"Leslie," Jerry hazarded, looking between Ron and the young woman. "I don't think we'll have enough time to hike through Thistlewood Park _and_ go canoeing."

Tom cleared his throat. "And I'm not going to survive a trust fall with Jerry," he said, snickering.

"I hate to agree with Jerry and Tom," Ron said, setting his copy of the itinerary down on the table. "But I agree with Jerry and Tom."

"Noooo," Leslie said, pushing the itinerary back at Ron, "NO. We'll have enough time! We'll just have to make sure we finish the formal team building exercises on time and keep up a brisk walking pace throughout the afternoon! This is completely doable!"

 

It was not doable. 

Rain poured down Leslie's bucket hat as she trudged ahead, spraying mud as her feet landed heavily on the ground. She could hear the rest of the group bickering behind her but she paid them no mind; it'll all be better once the rain let up.

A bolt of lightning flashed overhead and she winced. She didn't take being struck by lightning in any of her contingencies.

"Leslie," Donna said, catching up with her. "We should stop somewhere for shelter. Looks like the rain is going to last through until tomorrow."

" _Dammit_ , Jerry!"

"What?" Jerry asked, puzzled and sodden.

"Nothing, I just had to release some of my frustration."

Ron walked up with a miserable-looking Tom in tow ('I need to moisturise after this.') and said, "The park ranger's cabin isn't too far from here."

There was a war raging inside Leslie's head. She liked having her way but she also really liked being dry and warm. She sighed, her mouth sputtering a little from the rain, and said, "Okay, let's go."

 

"Why do the rangers have Scrabble anyway?" Leslie wondered out loud as she plonked down the word 'KINDRED'.

Tom looked at his tiles and asked if anyone could spare a vowel, preferably an 'A' because 'SWEG', 'SWOG', or 'SWUG' did not make sense and 'SWIG' is just boring.

"For times like this," Ron said, stroking his moustache as he waited his turn.

Donna put down 'PERFECTION' and said, "I surprisingly don't hate it."

"Me too."

*

"Alright, gang!" Leslie's chirpiness invaded the Parks Department offices like sun filtering through half-closed windows and landing squarely on the face of someone with a severe hangover. 

April tried to duck behind her chair in an effort to avoid the onslaught of cheer but Leslie rapped her knuckles on her desk to call everyone to attention. Jerry moved to the small table to listen and Donna waved a hand vaguely in acknowledgement, typing furiously for another half a minute before stopping abruptly. Tom strolled in wearing what he dubbed to be his Friday Morning Casual (cashmere scarf, khaki pants, a crisp white button-up topped off with a navy blue blazer). "Ron! C'mon, everyone's here!" Leslie clapped her hands, a sharp warning that she'll continue with the barrage of noise if her request wasn't heeded. 

Ron skulked out of his room with a cup of coffee and a sour expression. "Don't do this, Leslie."

"Yeah, stop it," April echoed. The phone rang and she lifted the receiver, only to crash it back down against the cradle. "Team building is the worst."

"Don't you think we've had enough of these things? We have them _every year_ ," said Donna, widening her eyes for effect. "We are so 'team' that we might as well get matching t-shirts." Leslie looked alarmingly keen on the idea but Donna shut it down with a curt, "No."

"Oh come on, guys, trust me -- this year is going to be great!"

Tom sighed and plucked off his sunglasses to fix Leslie with what he hoped was a Jay Z power stare. "Is it going to be at a day spa? On an island? With martinis?"

"No, but --"

Jerry held up his hands to stop the tide of complaints. "Guys, cut Leslie a break, I'm sure whatever she's got planned --"

"Shut up, Jerry!"

"Yeah! You are so whiney, oh my god," April crossed her arms, fixing the older man with a death glare.

Ron watched the proceedings unfold, painfully aware that his coffee was growing colder by the minute. This time of the year was a workout for his temper. Downing the remains of his lukewarm coffee, he set his mug down loudly on the nearest counter and cleared his throat. Five pairs of eyes looked at him expectantly, all ready to protest regardless of whichever side Ron decided to be on. He glowered at them all indiscriminately and said, "Shut your pie holes and listen to Leslie."

He was going to regret it; the half-hearted resentful muttering and Leslie's 'YESSSS' complete with fist pumping told him so.

"Okay, okay, okay," Leslie said hurriedly, ushering everyone out into the hallway. "We've got to keep going or we're going to be late."

 

"Well, at least it's nice to be outside of the office for once," Donna remarked, plucking a stray leaf from her hair.

"I hate it," said April, her arms now wound around Andy, who decided to tag along after seeing them all file out of the building. "It smells like freshly mown grass and sunshine. It's disgusting."

"We're nearly there!" Leslie said, blazing a path through the park. Ron had a feeling that Leslie could lead them towards a cliff and the rest of their group would follow her off it without blinking. (But she won't because she's too good a person for that; still, it was probably a sound plan not to mention any of that thought process to her, in case she got any ideas.) "This is just a short cut!"

"Will there be trust falls?" Jerry asked, wheezing slightly as he kept up his pace with the rest of the group.

Tom looked at the back of Leslie's head imploringly. "Please, no."

She shook them both off with a vigorous, "What? No! Don't be ridiculous, now come on."

Andy momentarily disengaged himself from making out with April and said, "Hey, we could go to David Bull's ranch! We can go horseback riding!"

"I like horses," April said gravely, "But not as much as seahorses because the males don't get pregnant."

Andy laughed and said, "I'll get pregnant for you, baby."

"Deal."

Everyone tried to avert their eyes and walked even faster.

 

Ron wasn't the first person to call Leslie out on it, but he was the first one to catch up and physically restrain her from walking away. 

"Leslie," he said crossly, the frown clearly etched on his features; it looked like a cross between Running Out of Lagavulen Whiskey and Being Told There Is No Such Thing as Bottomless Scrambled Eggs. "We have been walking for twenty minutes through Pawnee, with seemingly no clear purpose other than, possibly, to tire Tom out so he ditches that godawful blazer of his so we never have to set eyes on it again. Is this some elaborate practical joke? Is this a… 'Punk'? Because I'm telling you now, I refuse to be 'Punk-ed'."

"No! We're nearly there, I promise!" Leslie looked so earnest that Ron felt his resolve crumble a little.

Still, it didn't hurt to make sure. "We're not near any cliffs, are we?"

"No," Leslie pursed her lips and looked suspiciously at him. "Are you suggesting bungee jumping?"

"No," Ron hissed. "Don't even think about it."

"Too late!"

 

"We're here!" Leslie waved her arms about.

April squinted at her boss, then at the building before them, and back at her boss again. "What do you mean?" she said, crossing her arms. "We're just at JJ's." Leslie nodded enthusiastically and clapped her hands. "Did you have a heat stroke?"

"We could've taken my Benz," Donna said, dabbing her forehead with makeup blotting paper.

Leslie put her hands on her hips and scowled slightly at them. "It was just a thirty minute walk! And besides, you'll thank me for the walk after we get inside."

"All of you, get in," Ron said shortly and then turned to her. "You, you are paying for my first five plates of bacon."

As it turned out, Ron needn't had to worry since the plate set in front of his place at their reserved table was piled high with bacon and eggs. He shot Leslie an approving look as he took his seat, imperiously tucking the napkin on his collar. The others had sat themselves around and began eating as soon as they got comfortable. 

"This was not a bad idea," Ron conceded after he had ingested a plateful of food. "Morale is definitely lifting."

Leslie beamed. Or tried to while demolishing a waffle with enthusiasm that some people in nearby tables found alarming. "I know, but I'm not done yet!" She set down the remains of the waffle on her plate and pulled out a heavily bedazzled mug. "SNAPS CUP!" Leslie proclaimed loudly. There would have been a collective groan had everyone not been preoccupied with eating. (And even then, it would have been pretty half-hearted. Food does wonderful things to one's mood.)

"Okay, let's start with…" She looked around the table and sighed once her eyes fell on the only person waving at her. "... Jerry. Ugh fine. _Everyone_ , write nice things about Jerry and put them in the mug, then we can all give it to him to read out." 

There was a general murmuring of consensus before the group reluctantly abandoned their knives and forks for the slips of blue paper and pens. For some reason, there was also a small tub of glitter but thankfully, only Tom went for that.

The mug quickly filled with slips of paper before it was passed on to Jerry. He seemed genuinely pleased to receive an actual full set of slips and he got teary while reading them out. 'Punctual' in Ron's scrawl made Jerry take a moment to compose himself. He read out the last slip with fondness: "I don't hate you." Everyone's eyes immediately flicked to April.

Bristling she said, "If you tell anybody, I'll kill you."

 

The rest of the morning passed by breezily, with compliments and kudos exchanged around the table. Once they were completely full (Ron with a record-breaking eight plates of bacon and eggs), the group lapsed into a companionable silence. Leslie absentmindedly sipped her milkshake before jolting upright, her eyes wide. "I almost forgot!" She scuttled off and came back with a lumpy paper bag.

"Oh no," Donna said, recognising the items immediately as Leslie pulled the offending items out.

"Oh yes," Leslie said, tossing her a t-shirt. "They kept the silk screens from the vintage Parks Department promotional stint we did a few months back!" It was hard to deny Leslie when she was practically bouncing with positivity; everyone pulled their respective t-shirts on.

Tom immediately took a selfie and prepared to post it on Instagram. "Should I caption it 'ballin'' or 'yeezy taught me'?"

Donna adjusted the shirt on herself before she finally said, "Alright, I can work with this." A pause and she added, "No friendship bracelets."

Leslie smiled. "Of course not!" She tossed a smaller parcel she had taken out of her handbag. "That would be… yeah, no friendship bracelets." She cleared her throat and muttered, "Until Christmas."

"What?"

"Nothing!"


End file.
